


A moment for us

by pennyroads



Series: Moments in Life [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Domesticity, F/M, Fluff, Sickeningly Sweet, it’s a Christmas proposal AU, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 23:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennyroads/pseuds/pennyroads
Summary: “How do ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you?” A Christmas proposal.





	A moment for us

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose you could call this a continuation/companion piece to my Bughead Through the Ages AU, but it can absolutely be read as a standalone.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope your dental plan covers fluff induced cavities.

 

How do you ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you?

How do you ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you?

It's not that Jughead couldn’t find the right words. Years of reading and writing had armed him with a generous vocabulary and his quick wit and penchant for sardonic humor had always served him well.

But Jughead also believed in the power of gestures, and his current predicament called for a particularly big one at that.

He was a self-diagnosed cynic with abandonment issues, but he was also self-aware enough to realize that he had a good thing going with Betty. A very, very good thing. And he wasn't the kind of person who took thinks for granted, least of all the girl he wished to grow old and cranky with.

They had fallen into an easy rhythm after college. Easy as breathing.

Finding an apartment in a quiet, leafy Brooklyn neighborhood had proven simple - a quick decision, mutually agreed upon after only a cursory look around the place. Betty had crossed the room to stand in front of him, eyes a little damp, face stretching into a smile so warm that it lit him up from the inside out and said “This is it, Juggie.”

He looked at her, the soft afternoon light that was coming in through the open bay windows making her golden hair shine, and he realized that he wanted the privilege of seeing her like this, here, every day.

After borrowing Fred Andrews’ truck to move their stuff out of their dorms and into the new house, they dedicated the first couple of days to redecorating the living room and painting the walls a pale shade of yellow, as per Betty’s request - because you could take the girl out of the pastels, but you couldn't take the pastels out of the girl - a color Betty had called Capri Cream and Jughead called ‘pretentious beige’.

“It’s the perfect color for you, then.” She said, mouth quirked, eyes bright with mischief.

And damn him if he didn't fall even harder for her right then, because she never shied away from calling him out on his bullshit, and he loved it.

It was their first time living together as a couple. Two young adults thrust into the clutches of corporate America, embarking on a journey into adulthood in much the same way as they had spent their youth - as a solid unit.

That year in their tiny Brooklyn apartment had been filled with firsts.

Their first bed, which had so far been put to good use. As soon as they finished putting it together, they had thrown themselves on the soft mattress and let sleep overtake their tired bodies. Jughead on the left, Betty on the right, hands joined in the middle. An involuntary choice of the side of the bed they would from that point on claim as their own. It was a little piece of domesticity they both secretly treasured.

Their first real fight, angry words volleying between them hard and fast. It started, as all arguments start, with something small and stupid, which had simmered and grown in both size and scope. It ended in tears, frustration giving way to exhaustion. They eventually managed to rein in their tempers and concede mutual defeat.

When Jughead muttered a quiet ‘are you okay?’ into Betty’s hair as they hugged, every deep breath they took melted a little bit of the anger away.

That night, Jughead kissed apologies into every inch of Betty’s naked body, and she responded in kind.

It was a year of firsts, and change, and growth.

Jughead, a perennial fan of Truman Capote and James Sallis, of the gritty noir crime movies and mystery novels, had stumbled quite successfully into children’s fiction - much to the surprise and delight of all his friends. Except for Betty, who had always known him to have a soft, gentle core underneath the oftentimes hard, snippy exterior.

“I have layers. Like a lasagna.” He would say whenever somebody asked him about it.

At 26 he had successful published two books, which his publisher was very eager to turn into a series geared towards the 10-14 age group. His editor had used the term ‘legion of little fans' to describe his readership.

Of the two, Betty had been the one to follow through with the career plans she had drawn up in high school, graduating with honors and finding a job as a features writer for an online publication. The day she had gone from coffee-fetching intern to full-fledged reporter was the first time that Jughead had seriously considered asking her to marry him.

And although the idea was gone as quickly as it had come, it was never far from his mind.

Theoretically, it was time. They were in their mid-twenties, had stable jobs, loved each other unconditionally. It was the expected thing to do. But Jughead enjoyed subverting expectations and yes, even being a little contrary just for the sake of it. Blame his teenage insecurities and lack of proper parenting.

As time wore on though, he knew he wanted to do it. Not the fanfare, and the party, and having to pose for pictures and spend a year picking out flowers. But the marriage. Betty, walking down the aisle, a vision in white. One that would definitely bring more than a few tears to his eyes. He was manly enough to admit that.

Betty deserved to have the wedding of her dreams. She was an unfailingly kind, open hearted person who gave all of herself to the people she loved and demanded nothing in return. She had her shortcomings, like all people do, but she handled them with grace and worked hard to better herself constantly.

Jughead had never been prouder of another person.

He was aware that she wanted a wedding, and kids, and probably the white picket fence and the dog. They had talked about it some, growing up, with the kind of levity youth allows. It had, at the time, been a ‘one day, when we’re older’ kind of scenario.

They were older now. And it was time.

It was also two weeks until Christmas, and Jughead had no idea how to go about actually proposing.

Was he the kind of guy who hid a ring inside an advent calendar and waited until the 25th of December for her to open that little box, expecting a trinket and getting a diamond ring instead? He scoffed at the thought, offended that his brain had come up with it in the first place.

The problem was that everything sounded trite and cliché. It was Christmas. Anything he came up with would be inherently cheesy. But he had gotten the ring shortly after Halloween and had spent the entirety of November in a panic. He knew that he had waited long enough.

He ran through the list of ideas Archie had texted him when he asked for his friend’s help on the matter.

Sticking it in a clear bauble and offering it to her while they decorated the tree?

Spelling it out on the wall with Christmas lights?

Writing ‘Say Yule Be Mine’ on a Christmas card and giving it to her at dinner?

Jughead had physically recoiled when he read the last one. He had sent back a string of angry emojis, too distraught to formulate a proper response. He had an inkling that Archie was mocking him but he couldn't really blame him. It was a pretty dumb situation to find yourself in.

'You are getting nothing for Christmas for the foreseeable future, just FYI’ he texted Archie back days later when he was done sulking.

So December had come, and Betty and Jughead had gone to the Christmas tree farm and gotten a shabby little pine, which Betty insisted was perfect. “It has character, Jug!”

Her mom had always insisted on getting the most perfect Christmas tree in the lot and spent a painstakingly long time decorating it to perfection, which Betty insisted had sucked the fun out of the entire experience. So when it was time for them to get their own, she didn't mind if her tree was a little flawed. She loved it all the more for it.

Jughead thought that it maybe explained why she had ended up falling for him.

He actually considered doing it at the farm. She looked so happy going from tree to tree, checking each one with a critical eye and petting the owners’ dogs, two excitable Irish setters that loved the attention.

He pictured bending down on one knee in the snow and asking her to be his wife. But it lacked intimacy. There were families all around, little kids screaming and laughing, exasperated parents running after them. It was cold and damp and his nose was running and it just wasn't good enough.

So they packed their tree in the car and headed home. They decorated it with the baubles Betty had bought from a vintage shop two blocks from their apartment. A mix of red and gold and burgundy, shiny and pretty. She had been so excited to show them to him when she got home from shopping with Veronica that day.

“Aren't they perfect? And in such good condition too!” He had kissed her then, because her ponytail was askew, and her cheeks were flushed, and she was happy, and he because could.

He thought that maybe that was the perfect moment to propose. It was just them, their sparkly tree and Sinatra singing about Mistletoe and Holly on the radio.

But then the oven beeped, signaling that the mint chocolate chip cookies Betty had prepared were ready, and she sprang up from where she was sitting on the floor next to him and headed to the kitchen. The moment was decidedly ruined. And Jughead was a moment connoisseur, so he would know.

And so time had passed, and time does, and Jughead had yet to propose. They were expected in Riverdale the next morning to celebrate Christmas Eve with Betty’s parents and sister. Time had officially run out for him.

He sat on the couch feeling sorry for himself, nursing a mug of Betty’s special hot chocolate - what made it special were the Cocoa Puffs she placed on top of the whipped cream, his favorite (Jughead Jones had never proclaimed to have a refined palate).

He was meant to be packing but he blamed his laziness on low morale. He thought he deserved to brood a little bit, indulge in a ‘woe is me’ moment of angst. So naturally, Betty was doing for him, with minimal huffing and puffing.

He could hear her singing along to the Sinatra song playing softly in the background, moving around the apartment, sorting out laundry and neatly folding underwear into the elegant suitcase Jughead had given her as a gift to celebrate her recent promotion, which required her to travel to D.C. every once in a while.

Jughead was messing around on his phone, catching up with the group text he shared with Betty, Archie, Veronica and the rest of their Riverdale friends when he noticed that Betty had gone quiet. He heard her socked feet pad into the living room and a second later she was standing there, brow furrowed and hands clasped tightly behind her back.

“Jughead...” she muttered.

Jughead couldn't understand what had caused the sudden shift in her mood so he kept still and waited for her to continue.

“I found something” Betty said. Jughead detected a slight tremble in her voice.

“In your sock drawer.”

Suddenly it all became very clear to Jughead, and the blood drained from his face, leaving him deathly pale.

He hadn't known where to keep it. It needed to be somewhere safe, where it wouldn't get lost. A place Betty wouldn't go rummaging through. She had her own undergarment drawer, so he assumed the ring would safe inside his own, among his socks, tucked between the folds of his old, soft crown beanie, which he hadn't worn in a long time.

A beanie she was currently holding in her elegant hands.

Jughead stood on shaky legs and walked towards her, his thoughts panicked and jumbled and too incoherent to remember his own name, let alone how to formulate a decent excuse for having an engagement ring in his possession.

He couldn't decipher Betty’s expression, which didn't help his anxiety. Did she want this? Had she seen the panic on his face and realized she was in love with an idiot?

“Betty. I can explain.” His heart was about to short-circuit, he was sure of it. But then Betty smiled, slow and steady. Her eyebrow arched perfectly. Her face transformed into an expression Jughead was intimately familiar with.

It was the face she made when she realized he was indeed an idiot, and she loved him anyway.

And Jughead realized that he was acting guilty, like he had been caught doing something illicit, which was the furthest thing from the truth. This was Betty Cooper, the woman he felt Shakespearean levels of love for, and whom he felt certain kinda, maybe liked him back a little. On a good day.

The nerves didn't leave him completely, but he felt calmer, more confident. He took his old beanie from her, removed the black velvet box that had been poorly hidden inside, and looking deep into Betty’s wide green eyes, always so curious and alive, he bent down on one knee and opened the box, revealing a simple diamond on an elegant gold band.

Betty gasped. Her eyes - those beautiful eyes he wanted to spend the rest of his life writing mediocre haikus about - filled with tears.

“Betty Cooper. You have been the biggest surprise of my life. From the moment you walked up to Robbie Wesley in your yellow skirt and demanded that he give me back my hat, I knew I would always be a little bit scared of you” she let out a surprised laugh and swatted his arm playfully.

“I also knew you were someone worth keeping forever. And even though I didn't feel like I deserved you then - still don't, sometimes” Jughead smiled self-deprecatingly. “It would make me the happiest guy on earth if you allowed me the honor of spending the rest of our lives trying to be someone worth keeping by your side”

Tears were rolling down Betty’s face liberally, and she grabbed Jughead’s hands and pulled him up into her arms, a litany of ‘yesyesyesyes’ tumbling from her lips, as she held him tighter than she ever had.

Jughead’s eyes were far from dry. His heart had vacated the building, pumping hard and fast and in synch with the internal screaming in his head. ‘Yes’ was probably his new favorite word. He would tattoo it on his ass at the first available opportunity.

They separated only far enough to lock eyes, blue on green, bursting with joy and love. They moved at the same time, bumping noses and giggling, lips coming together with gusto.

 

Frank Sinatra sang on,

“Fancy ties an’ granny’s pies

An’ folks stealin’ a kiss or two

As they whisper, "Merry Christmas" to you.”

 

And the couple in apartment 3B continued their happy celebration well into the night, because life is made of moments, and you should treasure each and every one as they come.

The small moments, like lazy Sunday mornings, sharing coffee and the newspaper with someone you love and who loves you back with everything they have.

And the big ones, like moving to a new, bigger house to match your new, bigger future.

Or getting a pet, a tiny english sheepdog, and naming it Sinatra, because of the memories it holds.

Life is a moment, and it goes so very fast.

Jughead Jones plans on making each and every one matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can reach me @pennyroads on Tumblr. 
> 
> Happy Holidays xx


End file.
